The Fast
by Catherine Spark
Summary: Another Amy's pregnant story. But a story with a BIG difference. No loving Doctor/Amy couple or Amy/Rory couple. No baby gurgling around the TARDIS. However there is a big, big brain-twister at least I hope so - I'm setting myself up for quite a lot
1. Chapter 1

"I know a planet", said the doctor, "made entirely of honeycomb." He didn't realise Amy had crept out the room. "Giant bees – they go through the universe begging for sugar. They have stings but they don't use them. And they're furry. You can ride on them. Not at all like that race of giant wasps – inspired Agatha Christie. The bees are endangered now – people hunted them and killed them for rugs. A real shame. Amy. Amy?"

Amy had crept back in the room. Pale. Shoulders hunched. Not right. Not Amy!

"Hey," the doctor took her by her shoulders and brought his face close to hers and spoke gently. "I know what time travel can do. It can give you nightmares and it can even make you physically ill. You must try t…"

"A baby."

The doctor blinked. "What did you say?"

"I ran a scan. I was…having some sickness. I felt like…" She gulped. "…I'm pregnant". Her hand crept to her mouth. "I can't have kids. I'm just not that kind of person. I'm not ready. I'm only twenty-one."

There was a long, _long_ pause. Then, "Are you absolutely sure about this Amy, I mean, you could be wrong…"

"No, I'm sure."

The Doctor then turned away. "Fine, wonderful." It wasn't warm. It wasn't congratulatory. It was, if anything, _vulnerable._

"Are you going to throw me off the tardis?"

"No, but you'll go anyway" he replied, tersely. She waited. Then, into the electric silence: "They always go. They fall in love, they grow tired of it – of me…they still want to make a difference, just with someone else. Then they forget me." She saw tears shining in his eyes, but he brushed them away with a violent sweep of his hand that left a thin track of pink snaking across the bridge of his nose.

He brought his face close to hers.

"Do you _know_ how much you all break my heart?" he spat at her.

She spoke softly at his face, between gritted teeth, "You _know_ I have nowhere else to go. Rory was everything and he's _gone._" She began to advance, finger pointing accusingly at the Doctor, her voice rising in an uncontrollable crescendo. He backed away.

"It's your fault Doctor. You brought him on board. And you waited to discuss the light when he got shot. And then you forced me to leave him it's all you…it's all _you _it's all YOU!"

His hands flew up in the air. "Ok ok. I didn't say I was going to chuck you for the record. You can stay."

Amy sank down onto a seat, catatonic in disbelief at the situation. The Doctor was looking at her strangely. "Are you Ok?"

"Yeah, I'm always alright." Amy shrugged, looking down. The Doctor was not fooled. He pulled her reluctant frame into a tight hug. Eventually she relaxed, and then finally she clung on to him. "That phrase…I used to say that a lot." He paused. "You know what's funny?"

"What?" she mumbled into his shoulder. He stroked her hair.

"It was never true."


	2. Chapter 2

Amy sipped at some tea with lots of sugar in. "Got anything stronger?"

"Well you're still Amy then. And not while you're pregnant," the Doctor smiled. Amy did not smile back. Being pregnant wasn't the thing that was making her feel like Atlas – it was having a baby. The crying. The sleepless nights. How the heck were they supposed to do their world saving thing?

The Doctor scanned Amy's belly with his screwdriver. He whistled "Well, judging by the diameter of your womb alone I'd say about 8 months along."

"_Eight months?"_

"Give or take a day or two" the Doctor murmered, his eyes wide in shock.

"What I've only got a month to prepare? But…but how come I'm not vast? I ought to be like I was in the dream world by now!"

"Some women just don't puff up. Lallumaela didn't." His eyes widened and his hand jerked for a moment, as though it was resisting the impulse to clap over his mouth.

"Who?" Amy leaned forward eagerly but the Doctor eased her gently back down and motioned to her not to speak.

"You might have noticed some weight gain over the last few months but nothing much. Plus some women even still do that weird mood swing thing."

"What thing?"

"Oh you know…the werewolfy thing. The thing where you women go mad approximately every lunar month of my time. I quickly learnt to stay well clear of Rose."

"Oh…_that _thing." Amy allowed herself a tiny grin. "Ok then." Then she became feisty again for a few moments, "And it's not _mad_ it's _hormonal_ for your information."

For a second the Doctor was all ears, then sensing he would glean no further explanations, he laid down the screwdriver and sat beside her.

"And we're not "_You Women"_ either."

"Rory and I were your boys, how's that different?"

Immediately he realised he'd hit a painful nerve. "Sorry," he muttered. They squeezed hands. The Doctor drew breath. "Amy I need to ask you a personal question."

"Really?"

"Yes." He paused. "Is Rory the father?"

She looked at him like a rabbit in headlights. "I don't know."

"You must know!"

"I _don't. know._"

"Well who could it be then?"

Amy glanced around the room. "Well…I guess it narrows down to two men."

The Doctor waited. "And yes, one is Rory."

"And the other?"

"…Vincent."

"Vincent?" he sprang up, electrified. "No way, Vincent Van Gogh?" His grin was almost enough to make him look like the creature in pacman that eats the dots. "Too awesome! Oh and he always wanted that". He noticed she was smiling, but in that way which means "Be serious", rather than that way of sharing in the subject of the smile. "But when?"

"The last night. You were asleep. We went back into the field. Under the stars." Tears began to fall at the bittersweet memory.

"You really loved him didn't you?"

She nodded, unable to speak, and slowly regained composure.

The doctor was now looking extremely nervous. "What?" Amy asked.

"There is one other person."

"What? I would know."

"Not necessarily."

She was about to reply when she stopped. Her eyes opened in frighteningly intense realisation. Thecolour drained from her face and she sat down with a bump.

"But…but we've never…have we?"

"Time Lords do it differently. The female is dominant in the…procreation process."

"Not so different then," murmered Amy, loudly and clearly enough to draw a brief grin from the Doctor. "We have this respiratory bypass between the two hearts."

"_Two _hearts_…?"_

"Yes. And it allows for much longer breath holding than humans. It's meant to prevent fume poisoning but it has a second function. When I feel lust – as opposed to romance and we had that chat…" she nodded, "I become aroused, just as you would. For example by kissing. Only the process happens in a matter of seconds for me. When that happens my airway shuts off and a hole under my tongue opens and…well…there's no easy way of saying this for me…" he fidgeted and dropped his gaze, colouring, "…Ejaculate vapour issues forth."

"The sperm in the vapour – they travel through the lungs into the blood stream until they reach the tissue of the fallopian tube. They then diffuse through the cells there into the tube itself and they can fertilise an egg. The DNA strands in the sperm can alter their structure sufficiently to zip up with the DNA of almost any other species. An evolutionary adaptation in a dying race."

"And your point is?"

"Amy you kissed me the night before your wedding. It's a reflexical process for me. I have no control over it." He placed a hand on her stomach and she tensed, about to back away, but thought better of it.

"It could be my baby."

"Then what would happen?" He didn't answer. It was her turn to hug him in his shock.

"Then it's happening again," he muttered. Suddenly the Doctor sprang up, grabbing the sonic screwdriver. "There's an easy way to find out," he said. The screwdriver whirred again over her womb. "I'm performing a DNA analysis," he explained.

A few seconds later his face clouded in bafflement. "That can't be right," he said to nobody in particular. He thumped the screwdriver against the side of the examining couch, like a fisherman killing his catch.

"That _can't _be right!"


	3. Chapter 3

"That _can't _be right!"

"What can't be right?"

With a clever flick the Doctor had the sonic screwdriver open and was examining the circuitary.

"Doctor, _what _can't be right?" She prized the screwdriver from him.

He glanced at her. "Well according to this you're not pregnant you're…" She saw an expression of pure horror form slowly upon his face.

There was an awful silence.

Then the Doctor whispered, looking right at her eyes, "Amy this is important – do exactly as I say and you _might_ be alright. Get into your bed – I'm going to bring a scanner to you."

"First tell me what you're thinking…"

"_Just. Do. It!"_

"No." She became as solid as a brick wall in her determination against him. He ran both hands through his hair and jumped up and grabbed her shoulders. His voice was rising into near hysteria and as his explanation progressed his grip tightened until it hurt her.

"Amy listen to me. That bump – whatever it is – has the same genetic profile as you – _exactly _the same. There's no way that any of the DNA in that bump could have come from any external source. You have a massive lump of dividing cells inside you that shouldn't be there and that has the same DNA as you. That's a tumour Amy that's a tumour!" He let go of her, leaving fading finger prints of white on her arm, and walked away.

Amy put her hand against the wall because she was certain her legs would buckle if she didn't hang on to something.

"Am I gonna die?" she whispered. Numb, she made her way to her bed.


	4. Chapter 4

Amy sat still, dazed, in her bed. The Doctor had a portable scanner focussed on her womb – a small probe that he ran over her belly, attached by a flexible rubber wire to a screen about the size of a laptop. He started to smile.

"It's Ok. It's not a tumour. It's a baby. It's alive and healthy and it looks normal."

A great sigh of relief escaped her and she flopped back, smiling. Then she sat up and slapped the Doctor hard across the face. He reeled back.

"What the _heck_ was that for?" he protested, glaring at her, rubbing his right cheek which had taken most of the impact.

"You gave me the fright of my life!"

"I tried not to – you insisted!"

"What else did you expect me to do?"

They both tried to regain some control over their feelings, and the Doctor took up the scanning again.

"At least I made you act pleased about the baby," the Doctor murmered, leaning back in case his comment earned another slap. Amy smiled and looked away, taking his hand. He was surprised but gratified.

"Thing is," he said, almost to himself, "Why has it got exactly the same DNA as you if it isn't actually you?"

Amy shrugged. He continued. "It's impossible for humans to procreate by parthenogenesis. The baby dies roughly around the time its heart starts beating. Over-expression of maternal genes poisons it. So because you're so far along there has to be a father involved."

He sat down on the bed. "Which leaves us no wiser than we were when we started. Bit of a deadlock really."

They both sat, deep in thought. It was Amy who broke the silence. "Well…couldn't you run a DNA check of all the potential fathers?"

The Doctor looked at her, and a slow smile spread across his face. "Amy Pond you're good. Either that or I'm losing it. I hadn't thought of that. Well, let's get one out the way right now." He whirred the sonic screwdriver over his own hand, and she could almost see the cloud of worry lift. "It's not me". His eyes swept the room in relief, savouring his freedom. Then he became serious again. "Amy – this question is going to be painful. Are you ready?"

She nodded, bracing herself.

"Do you have anything of Rory's that might contain some of his DNA?"

She paused, checked her emotions, and nodded silently. Getting up off the bed she opened the wardrobe. On the top shelf there was a plastic bag. She unwrapped the jumper with the same care museum workers show when they handle a genuine Neanderthal's shoe.

"Can I…?" the doctor examined every fold of the jumper. "I've found it.." he said. A single blonde hair. It was enough to move Amy to tears. The Doctor put his arm around her, his own eyes bright.

"I liked Rory. He was…" he paused, swallowed hard and continued, his voice odd. "I often underestimated him. He died taking a bullet for me."

"I know."

"So many people have died doing that."

"I know."

He hunched and stared at nothing. "I wonder if I'm worth all that blood. All that sacrifice people have made to keep me alive…"

They were both silent for a few moments, looking down at the hair. Surprisingly, Amy now squeezed the Doctor's hand determindly. "His last legacy." She nudged him. "Come on then."

The Doctor jerked back into life and ran the sonic screwdriver over the hair. "It's not a match." He concluded, giving the hair to Amy, who placed it exactly where she found it on the jumper and began wrapping it back up. "We know who the father is then."

"Doctor?"

He was excited now, animated. He paced around the room, gesticulating with the sonic screwdriver. "The ultimate ginger – that baby is going to blow your head off with its gingerness…"

"Doctor!"

"Another ginger artist – another smaller Van Gogh. Oh if he knew he'd be…"

"_Doctor!"_

He wheeled round. "Sorry, what is it?"

She was frozen in mid-wrap, standing awkwardly.

"I've wet myself."

He looked down. There was a puddle underneath her. A big puddle.

"Why didn't you go when you needed to?"

"I _didn't _need to. It just sort of came out. I couldn't stop it."

The Doctor stiffened. "Then you haven't wet yourself," he whispered, his eyes wide, "Your waters have broken."


	5. Chapter 5

"A good job…we found out…when we did," panted Amy. "We would have been clueless if it had been born in the morning earlier".

"Walk," said the Doctor, "It says here that you have to walk. To make it come faster." He had connected to the internet and was reading about childbirth. The sweat soaked through his shirt onto his back. His hands were shaking.

"It's bloody coming fast enough!" Another contraction brought Amy to her knees. Her hair was also dark and slick with sweat. "Ok", she gasped, "Ok now I wanna push. Now I wanna push!"

"You've got to breathe like you're blowing out a candle!" the Doctor yelled over his shoulder. "Hold back the urge I'm coming over to you!" He printed out a sheet and took it over to her.

"I don't…even…have…any equip-ment…and it's a month early!" puffed Amy, but the Doctor held up his hand, squatting beside her now. "Don't try to talk," he soothed, "We'll get it all sorted out. Now concentrate fully!"

"You're not the boss of me. You've never given birth," she muttered.

At that moment another contraction ripped through her.

"I can't stop the pushing!"

"Well you have to!" He whirred the sonic screwdriver over her belly. He consulted his printed sheet. He gave her a thumbs up.

"10 cm. Ok now you don't have to stop the urge. Next time a contraction comes push like both our lives depend on it!"

"I can't believe you're going to eyeball me down there!" she gasped through gritted teeth."

"Can't be helped. Anyway I can't see all the way up can I? The baby's head's in the way." She could only nod. He rolled up her night gown and bent her legs. He almost fainted. "You never told me it bleeds like that!" He tried to wipe with his handkerchief but didn't stand a chance. It was soaking into the TARDIS floor below her also.

A contraction swelled and she bore down for 45 whole seconds. A red mist swam before her eyes. She fell back with a gasp.

"Brilliant Amy, brilliant. I can see the head! Push more!"

She pushed until she felt she would pass out from the burning, presently no longer hearing the Doctor's encouraging words. As the head emerged the Doctor's trembling hands unlooped the cord from around the baby's neck. He gently guided the shoulders out, hardly breathing in the process. Suddenly there was an almighty sluice and all the power and pain and burning and pushing stopped. Amy fell back, panting hard, feeling rather like a rhinocerous had been lifted off her shoulders. Then she started groaning as the afterbirth was delivered.

The Doctor scooped the baby girl up and swung it, experimentally, by its ankles. The baby was small with shockingly ginger hair. Its skin was sort of grey-mottled in places, it was covered in grease and blood, wrinkly and its head was rather misshapen. Yet it looked, in its own way, perfect. It spluttered and he wiped its nose and mouth, took off his jacket and dried the baby off with it. Then he took some scissors and gingerly clipped at the umbillical cord. It would not budge. It took surprising force to cut the cord and when he did, blood splattered on the ground. He lept up and cauterised the two cord stumps with the sonic screwdriver. Then he collapsed into a chair, baby in his arms. "Blimey," he gasped, eyes bulging.

"Hello?" Amy's voice was weak but her feistiness was still unmistakably present. "Woman lying in blood and…other stuff!"

The Doctor jumped into action. "Yes yes of course." Holding the baby in the crook of his left arm he disappeared, and a minute later helped her up and, one arm around her waist, guided her to a bedroom she had never seen before, with an ensuite bathroom. Near the bath were several flannels, a towel, some shorts and a frozen package of peas.

"Hear, clean yourself up with those and then use the frozen peas to stop any pain and bleeding still going on. It's ok. I hate peas."

As Amy washed and dressed the Doctor swaddled the baby in a towel. As he did so, he was overwhelmed by memories. His Lallumaela giving birth and subsequently regenerating. His little Augri – so like this baby. Colicky. Inclined to puke after feeds. He had rocked her all night just to give Lal some sleep. And later, much later, the birth of Susan. That incarnation had already been old and he had already become brash by the time she was born. Augri had thought she would never be able to have a child and it was a complete accident. He hadn't been pleased at first – it had come at an awkward time. But just as all that brashness and grumpiness had melted when he had looked at Susan's sleepy face, so now his heart spilled over as he looked at this little squirming blob of life. Dear God he loved them. And dear God he missed them. For the first time since his regeneration the tears dripped down his nose to splash on his hands.

On autopilot now he set about arranging a make-shift cot using a drawer from the chest of drawers by the window. He folded some blankets and laid them on the bottom as a mattress, and placed the little ginger-haired baby in. She squeaked and then began to cry. Startled, the Doctor scooped her back up in his arms. Instinct took over as he cradled her to his chest. "Shh-shh…shh-shh…" he whispered unconsciously, pacing the room. The baby started routing around his chest with her mouth. "You're hungry aren't you? That's what it is. You're hungry." He looked around for Amy but she had not come out the bathroom in all this time.

He placed the baby in the drawer. "Wait there," he told the baby and knocked gently on the bathroom door. "Amy?" There was no answer. The door was not locked. _She wants me to come in then,_ he thought as he softly pushed it open. Amy was sitting on the toilet, stock still, eyes red and swollen. He reached out to her. She didn't respond.

"I can't." she simply said.

"Can't what?"

"I can't do it."

"What?"

"_Anything_. It's too much. I said I wasn't ready."

"Amy," began the Doctor, "You only found out this morning that you were even pregnant – you've not even held the baby, give it…"

"I don't _want_ to do it. I _won't_ do it. You can't _force _me to do it" she snarled as she curled her feet up and hugged her knees. "If you bring that baby to me I won't look after it. I like babies. But I don't want it. Not when Rory's gone. Not now. Maybe not ever."

"Amy…"

"Take it away Doctor," she said, in a low voice, "For God's sake just take it out of my sight."


	6. Chapter 6

Amy would not hold, touch or even look at the baby that day, nor the next, nor any other day. As she sank deeper into her postnatal depression, she locked herself in her room for increasing amuonts of time. The Doctor, completely at a loss with her, was left to bottle-feed, burp, cuddle, wash and toilet the baby, which remained nameless. Now and then he would entreat Amy to come out and meet her daughter, but it drove Amy to such distress each time he asked that eventually he only disturbed her to ensure she ate and drank (an ordeal in itself).

It began to take its toll on him. Hollow eyed and wild-haired he would pace the corridors with 'his' baby in his arms, calming her to sleep, and speaking his thoughts. He dared not leave his baby alone, even for a few seconds, for fear of what Amy would do in her irrational state. It was a strange sensation: All these centuries he had been the one who had the odd effect of making people spill out their deepest secrets. Now he was the one pouring his heart out to this tiny scrap of life.

"Oh my little baby – will you ever get to sleep? We've been pacing this corridor for an hour…a time lord's gotta sleep too, you know. It reminds me of Lal and Augri and Susan. Do you know how much I miss them? I've not spoken to anyone about them – I couldn't. People have such painful reactions. They all say they're sorry or change the subject or say they know exactly how I feel. Nobody knows how I feel. I'm the last one left. But it's different with you my dear. You've broken your mother's spirit but you're healing mine. All those planets. All those wonderful people. Those magnificant companions – and you're doing what none of them could do."

He stopped, as an epiphanic realisation dawned upon him. "That's why you can't stay here." He held the little baby away from himself, her arms stretching towards him as he supported her under her armpits and shoulder blades. Her head was still too heavy for her to lift and it lolled to one side against her shoulder. One small eye peered at him, though he knew her vision was still too cloudy to make much sense of what she saw. "You're too amazing for this. This is no place for a baby to grow up. Not with your mum slowly closing in on herself. Not with a 907 year old time lord who puts his life on the line every other day. You need stability and a home, like Susan did.

"I don't want to let you go," he murmered, holding her to his chest and swallowing rather hard. "You feel like mine. Oh where to take you, where to take you?"

"Vincent."

He hardly dared to turn round, but when he did so, Amy was standing behind him. He could have cried with relief. He didn't, but he could have. "V-Vincent?" he repeated, quietly.

"It's his baby too. I know he would look after it. He loved me – you know he did. And I know it would heal his mind."

"First off, she's a _she,_ not an _it_. And secondly Vincent can barely look after himself, let alone a _child_…"

"That'll all change Doctor, I know it will. As soon as he sees her he'll live again. Please Doctor."

The Doctor glanced around wildly, looking for a way out of this situation. Amy was better than he had seen her in days and would surely spiral down again if he said no. But to say yes would certainly be condemning the baby to a life of heartache…

"NO!" he screamed, and the baby started crying. He jiggled the baby and within a minute or so she calmed.

The Doctor tried to walk away with the baby in his arms, but Amy blocked him, determindly. "Doctor," she said, "Let's just bring the baby to the same spot we left Vincent and see how he reacts."

There was a long pause.

"This isn't safe, Amy. You know that." She nodded, but remained standing in his way. "It's the greatest year of his life – his year of painting – and we don't know what will happen or how he will react."

"Then please let me at least try. _Please, _Doctor."

After a seemingly endless pause: "Ok." The Doctor had finally buckled. "Ok. We'll let him meet her."

They parked the TARDIS and opened the door. It was exactly as they left it – the wild opens grassy space dotted with trees and shrubs, the warm yellow sunshine and Vincent, standing fifty metres or so away. He walked towards the Doctor, an incedulous look on his face. "What is this? I left you only a second ago."

"Time travel, my fine friend."

Vincent fixated on the baby. "Are you the father of this child?"

"No. But Amy's the mother." He drew breath. "You're the father."

Vincent's mouth dropped open. The gun he had been holding dropped to the ground, mercifully not firing in the process. The Doctor silently handed Vincent the baby (Vincent stood and gawked, utterly at a loss as to what to do with this squirming bundle), picked up the gun and pocketed it, giving Vincent a meaningful glance.

That was when Amy snuck up behind the Doctor and clobbered him unconscious.


	7. Chapter 7

The first thing the Doctor heard when he started to come round was the grinding of the TARDIS. Consciousness snapped into place instantly then. He leapt up, eyes ablaze. Amy was flying the TARDIS herself. "What have you done?" he yelled, knocking her out the way and trying desperately to turn back. Amy stood calm, zen-like. "It's Ok," she said, softly, "The baby is safe."

He turned to look at her and his hearts chilled. "Where?" he finally ground out.

"Vincent said he would take care of her. He called her Amy after me." She sat on the consol, unconcerned. Passionate, the Doctor grabbed her shoulders and yelled "What did I tell you Amy? What the hell did I tell you? _Vincent. Can't. Cope!_"

She gazed at him evenly, still smiling serenely. "You're wrong." She suddenly became childlike, brought her knees up to her chest and murmered "Are you going to throw me off the TARDIS now?"

"Yes Amy! Yes I am! I'm sorry – I have to. As soon as we've found the baby. Because you're going to help me to find her."

"Vincent!" the Doctor dashed out the TARDIS, Amy close behind him. The Doctor rounded some shrubbery and stopped dead. "Oh. Ohhh. Oh Vincent…" he swallowed hard and stood up. "AMY! Don't come any further. Stay there."

He was looking at a large patch of dried blood and flattened grass, and a revolver lying nearby. And the blood snaked away from the patch and finally dried up.

He stumbled back to Amy, anger replaced by shock. "We're too late – he's already done it."

"What?" Amy said in a low voice.

"He's already gone."

A change suddenly overcame Amy. She had previously been flitting between being detached and eerily serene, and being so emotionally fragile that any mention of the baby's wellfare or of Vincent could push her to near breaking point. Now it was almost as though he could see her snap back to reality. Her face crumpled. "Oh my God. Oh no." He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight and she began to sob hysterically. After a few minutes of this, he prised her away from himself, and held her opposite her. She was shaking and gasping, and he struggled to make eye contact. "Amy look at me. Look at me Amy! Look at my eyes." Finally she met his eyes. "I know how much you're hurting – no I don't know.." she flitted away and he shook her gently. "No, I _don't _know how much you're hurting but believe me Amy I can imagine it. Amy, the last physical living manifestation of Vincent is his daughter – your daughter Amy. I don't know where she can be but we HAVE to find her. She could be in terrible danger…" to his immense but agonising relief he saw that she had understood the gravity of the situation – and _cared._" An expression of horrified reaslisation appeared on her face. Then, quietly:

"Doctor…what have I done?"

"You were ill. You've been in a mentally dissociated state. You couldn't connect – it was almost as if the trauma of an unexpected birth had shut down your rational mind."

"It did?"

"Yes, and now it's beginning to recover. We need to tread carefully or you might break down again, but we need to find the baby. Now you need to try and remember what happened. Anything at all."

She closed her eyes and a stillness and silence fell over both of them. "I was in the TARDIS…you were holding the baby…saw Vincent…hit you over the head…and it all goes blank."

"That's it? Amy try!"  
"I _am_ trying. That's everything."

The Doctor let out a frustrated yell and kicked at a shrub. He ran his hands frantically through his hair. "Well we need to get to the village. They hate him but we'll just have to ask around it's our only option. We can't take the TARDIS, we can't risk a mistaken jump in time and space. We'll just have to go on foot – come on…"

Together they ran towards the village.


	8. Chapter 8

"Have you ever seen Vincent with a baby?"

"Did Vincent have a baby with him in his house the last few days?"

"Where is Vincent?"

It was this last question that hit home. One of the villagers – the one who ran the café – _had _seen Vincent. He had come up from the fields a couple of days ago, clutching a red cloth to his chest. At least she thought it was a red cloth. He had seemed to be walking strange – they thought he'd just been drunk again because he had gone into the inn which had a pub.

"Thank you," said the Doctor quietly, and suddenly exploded into a frantic run, dragging Amy along by the hand. "Two days ago – " he panted, "He shot himself – in the chest – and died – two days later – we've got to run – he could – go at – any minute!"

After a hectic run they could see the pub. A red-haired man was sitting outside, face in his hands. The Doctor stopped, puzzled. "Oh no," he muttered after a moment.

"We're too late?" Amy's mouth was dry and the world was spinning. But the Doctor was already running up the steps. He put a hand on the shoulder of the crying man. "Theo?" Theo looked up.

"Nothing can ever be good again. Leave me be."

"I'm so sorry Theo. I really am. I knew Vincent."

Theo lifted his tear-streaked face and looked the Doctor in the face.

"Doctor…" The Doctor smiled and nodded. Theo enfolded him in a hug. "Vincent spoke so highly of you. He was reluctant to go into details, but he said you and your friend were the last two people in the world ever to make him truly happy." He turned to Amy, "Especially you. I am forever indebted to you." He kissed each of her cheeks. Seeing she was confused he explained. "I'm Vincent's brother." He drew himself up and in a choked voice said "He was not alone – I was there."

Amy nodded. "Before he died," Theo continued, "He asked me to give you this. I know nothing of its contents – he told me I could never open it. I…" he drew breath shakily, "I have honoured his last request." He handed the Doctor an envelope which was marked for them in Vincent's handwriting, and disappeared back into the inn. Amy tried to follow, but the Doctor placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't," he said quietly – "Theo needs to be alone with his brother."

Amy did not protest.

They moved a short distance away and opened the envelope.

_Dear Doctor. Dearest Amy._

_Please don't think badly of me for what I am about to do. I have tried to fight the monsters – I truly have. But I am so tired. I think the sadness will last forever. The only thing that was keeping me going was the baby you left with me._

"That's her!"

_But four days ago the villagers took her from me. I tried to protect her and care for her, but I couldn't. Perhaps it is better for her that way. I heard she was taken to the orphanage up the street._

"Let's go…" the Doctor tried to take her hand but she brushed him away. The hand that was holding the letter began to shake slightly.

_I have ceased to be of use in this life. I will therefore die in peace, knowing that my baby is in good care and my paintings will live forever._

_Farewell my sweet Amy – I hope you can forgive me for my failings. Nobody has ever made me happier than you did in the few days you were with me. Try to have a good life with the Doctor and don't weep for me, for I am free amongst the swirling stars and the dancing golden corn._

_With all my love and gratitude,_

_Vincent._

She stroked and smelled the letter. She leant against a wall and folded it carefully. Despite Vincent's pleas she let the tears flow. After about a minute or so she took the Doctor's hands. "It's ok," she said, "I'm alright. He's free. I understand that now." She drew breath and gave a watery smile. "Let's go to the orphanage."

It was a high building, made of dirty white stone. Children leaned out the windows. All were clothed in simple, raggedy garments. All had dirty faces. All looked furtive, yet impish. The Doctor knocked on the door. A thin, worn yet gentle-looking woman of about forty opened the door. "Yes?" she spoke softly but clearly. "What can I do for you?"

"Hello, we're relatives of Vincent Van Gogh." The Doctor flashed the psychic paper. "We're wondering…did he bring a baby here a few days ago?"

"A baby? He can barely take care of himself, let alone a baby. Besides he's dead. The whole village knows."

"He had a baby daughter out of wedlock. We have reason to believe that he brought her here before he died."

She looked blank.

"I think she may have been called Amy…and it wouldn't have been Vincent who brought her here."

"Follow me," said the woman.

Through a dusty, dim wooden corridor she led them, up a flight of stairs into a surprisingly bright and airy room. It was small-ish, with a bed at in the corner adjacent to the door. A wash jug and basin stood on a small wooden table nearby. A wardrobe and book case stood against the wall opposite the one the bed was alongside. A wicker mat covered the centre of the wooden floor. There was a desk facing the window, an ink stand and several quills. A vase of flowers stood on the windowsill. The woman took a large book down from the shelf. She smiled coyly. "I learned to read by studying the hymn books in church, and I worked out how to write by myself. It's been the greatest blessing of my life."

"Good for you," said Amy quietly, earning a smile.

"I keep a record of every child that comes into my care. Their name, the date they were brought in, how long they stayed and who took them away, if anyone did." She dropped her gaze. "Most don't get collected. It's not much of a life for them here. I have nothing to offer them but sustenance and shelter."

"It's better than it could be," the Doctor said, and the woman nodded, flicking through the pages.

"Hmmm…yes! Yes I have it! One Amy Pond, brought in two weeks ago. Such a tiny little mite. Could only have been a few weeks old at best. The most wonderful red hair..."

"That's her!" cut in Amy excitedly, causing the woman to break into a grin. "I can't believe he gave her my surname!"

"Can we see her?" the Doctor pleaded.

The woman's grin faded, replaced by a look of sympathy. "I…I'm so sorry…she left the orphanage yesterday."

"_What?_"

"I'm sorry…" the woman began to look afraid and shrank back a little. "I had no idea…I gave her to a woman who was looking to adopt. She said she and her husband had been trying to have a baby for ten years…I don't know why I'm telling you all this."

"What was her name?"

"Er…something unusual…" she consulted the book again.

"Yes, that was it: River Song."


	9. Chapter 9

**Only one episode today - because if all goes to plan, tomorrow's episode will be the conclusion to the story...**

"Ok this is bad…badbadbadbadbad. I hardly even know the woman and she's taken off with our baby…" the Doctor was pacing around the TARDIS – they hadn't even moved yet. "Think think think…why would she take our baby?" He thumped the back of the chair.

"Well…maybe she's left you a message somewhere…? She did that with the angels…"

"Yes and we've only got the whole of time and space to search for it in!"

"Just a suggestion", Amy rolled her eyes, but resumed all seriousness and they sat in deep thought.

"She knew how to find me last time…unless she doesn't want us to find the baby. Which is possible of course…I can't imagine she wouldn't know we'd be searching for her. Typical – at least I expect it's typical I don't really know her well enough to know what's typical – you wait for a time traveller and then three come at once…"

He suddenly slapped his forehead, lept up and started thumping controls left, right and centre.

"What's going on? What are you doing?"

"Gotta catch it quickly! If she only left a day or two ago there'll still be residual time energy – like the wake of a boat! But it fades after a bit…it might run out if we don't hurry…but if it does it's still a biiiig clue…And I can lock the TARDIS onto the trail! Oh yes!" He looked at Amy, "Hold on tight – it'll be like flying a plane along an existing vapour trail – turbulant."

There was an almighty bang. The TARDIS began to tip – steeper and steeper, and then started to spin on the x, y _and_ z axes, if there are such things in a space-time machine. Chairs slid back and hit the back wall. They could hear other objects smashing and crunching in other rooms throughout the TARDIS. "I told you it would be bumpy! Don't worry – it'll tidy itself up when this is all over!" the Doctor shouted over the crashes and thuds. Amy didn't reply – she was clinging to the consol. It now felt just like a washing machine or a cement mixer – a machine of one kind or another that goes round and round at any rate. And now it was like they were beans in a can and the can was being shaken!

"That has to be atmosphere outside the TARDIS! I think we might be about to crash!" The Doctor snatched frantically at various controls, and suddenly, with a grinding and whirring and a terrible shudder, the TARDIS stopped.

"This is the end of the road. Now I only hope we've got it right…" said the Doctor and hurtled out the door. Amy darted after him.

"Now…where are we?" It was silent. It was bright. It reminded him of the library – the biggest library in the universe – on a good day, that was. There was a desk in the middle of the room, a stocked pencil castle, bell and phone on the desk, and a red leather covered chair behind the desk. Lying open on the desk was a book…a birth register.

"Now that is fishy," the Doctor said. "One, it's open at the exact right page – almost as if someone's left if for us – 1989. And two…"

"Yes…?"

"There's a message written in Gallifreyan. That's just a bit of a giveaway don't you think?"

"Bingo. So what's it say?"

"It's an address…" replied the Doctor, his eyes alight with excitement. "And now I know where and when we are."

"Where?"

"Dingwall registration office, Scottish Highlands, April 11th 1996. And we need to go to Old River Road."

They caught the bus. By the time they stepped off into the bright, quiet street, Amy was grinning from ear to ear.

"What are you so happy about?" the Doctor asked her.

"Well, I know we've lost our baby…and I am very worried…but at the same time,"

She turned to face him, eyes shining, "I grew up in Dingwall Doctor. At least until I was six."

"Well what do you know! It's a small universe."

They linked arms and shivered. The wind was picking up and it was from the North. It was distinctly cloudy. The Doctor rubbed his hands together, and hugged himself.

"We'll just have to wait and hope that she turns up. We'd better be right…because I'm out of ideas," he admitted.

**NB - Karen Gillan actually grew up in Inverness but for the plot Amy Pond grew up in Dingwall**


	10. Chapter 10

**The Conclusion**

Minutes turned into hours. It began to get dusky. The Doctor and Amy sat on a wall waiting, unspeaking. Finally Amy spoke. "Should we maybe go back? We're not getting anywhere here. And it's freezing."

"Yeah," the Doctor grunted quietly. "River wins." He stood up and looked down the road to the TARDIS. "Well he said I couldn't trust her. The cleric. I suppose he was right." He put his arm round Amy, noticing she was shivering.

"Well, come on then. We'd better go."

"So soon Doctor?" a voice behind him said. He gave a startled yell. River was sitting on the wall where they had been sitting a few seconds earlier. She was dressed in a white fur-trimmed jacket, fur-trimmed knee high boots and a tight black skirt. She was carrying a red leather bag.

"You!" the Doctor strode over to her and stood over her. "What have you done to our baby?"

"I'd forgotten you could be so…fiery." She smiled calmly up at him. He glared back, ready to take her hostage if need be. "I took her here because she would have suffered terribly in the orphanage, but there would have been roughly a fifty percent chance of the universe ripping apart had you been allowed to catch up with her."

"Then where is she? Is she safe?" There was a crack in the Doctor's voice at the last word. River looked down. "You missed her. She moved out a year ago with her legal guardian. Moved to England."

Amy pushed forward. "Are you playing games with us? You can't do this to people River. Seriously. Where is she, or we'll hurt you." She shook the Doctor's calming hand off her shoulder.

"Like I told you, she moved to England. I disrespect people who waste my time by mindlessly repeating. But there's another thing. She came here in 1989. It's 1996 now. She's no baby now."

They both stood there, stunned. Finally Amy spoke quietly, politely. "Could you take us there?"

"Sorry Amy. I'd like to, believe me. But I'm afraid that would be crossing too many personal timelines, and that's not allowed – as I said it could rip apart the universe. But you shouldn't miss her. She's safe. And she's going to do the most amazing things." River was looking at her with such pride and love that Amy became confused.

The Doctor was forwning in puzzlement. And suddenly it was as if everything fitted together like pieces in a jigsaw. The identical DNA. Vincent calling the baby Amy Pond. Amy coming to Dingwall as a newborn and moving to England aged six…the danger of crossing timelines…even the base code of the universe was entangled in this paradox.  
"I understand." The Doctor whispered.

River looked at him. "You do…?"

"Yes. And it's impossible."

"Impossible in any fixed point of space and time yes…but hovering between times, in a nowhere place in the way that the TARDIS does it can happen. Amy never touched the baby outside of the TARDIS. If she had the reapers would have been allowed back in. I believe I've seen two other cases – a long long time ago now."

"I still don't know what's going on here" Amy reminded them

"Come on Amy…work it out! It's not hard, just very, very brain twisting!"

For a few moments the world seemed to stand still as she thought through everything that had happened, and they watched her with baited breath.

"Let me help you," River Song said, "That guardian…the one bringing seven year old Amy up in England right now? She calls that guardian her Aunt."

It was this piece of information that triggered the reaslisation that now hit Amy like a slap in the face. "Baby Amy and adult Amy are one and the same," River summarised, quietly.

Amy's mind began to spin.

"So Vincent Van Gogh – he's my dad? _I made love to my dad?"_

"Well, before you were conceived he wasn't your Dad."

"I was alive before I was conceived though! Ok I never thought I'd hear myself say that." The others grinned. "So I grow up, conceive, carry and give birth to myself and in the future – the past – the 'fast' – whatever – and then that version of myself grows up, carries and gives birth to myself etc. etc…forever?"

"A paradoxical loop, yes. Until the end of time."

Amy felt her legs become shakey, and the Doctor and River helped her back to the TARDIS for a cup of tea.

"The thing I don't understand though," the Doctor mused, after they had filled Amy in on chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6 of this story, "Is that you said 'too many personal timelines would be crossed' if we went back to the house. That implies more than one timeline."

"Oh yes," said River, "You see I stayed at the house for quite some time. After all, she was a very lovely baby." She turned to Amy. "I'm sorry I wasn't around very much as you grew up. Time travel is hard work."

"But I'd never met you before I travelled with the Doctor!"

River motioned to her to wait. "I prefer to travel in-cognito. I don't enjoy companions accompanying me everywhere – the Doctor and I differ on that one." River gave the Doctor a smile and he smiled back. "But I _did _want to keep checking you were alright. You never know with butterfingers there. So every time we bumped into each other I would have a look at you to check you were alright. Each time I've met you since you've been travelling with the Doctor I've worn an individually targetted perception filter."

She put the tip of her sonic screwdriver into her handbag, it whirred and the perception filter fell away.

There is an optical illusion where you look at a picture of an old woman looking down, and if you stare at it long enough you suddenly perceive it instead to be a young woman looking away. Nothing has changed about the picture itself – it's just your perception of it. In the same way as this, Amy looked at River Song and her perception of her changed: The stranger she had met only twice before suddenly became the Aunt she had been brought up by.

"You can't imagine how relieved I was when you finally stepped into that TARDIS. I was beginning to get worried it would never happen. Then you'd never have been born." River was getting ready to leave.

"River?" Amy came forward. "Thanks for…for taking care of me all those years as I was growing up."

"It was a pleasure and a privilege. And I personally know we have many more happy meetings to come." Amy laughed and they kissed each other on each cheek.

"Well Doctor, here's to my past and your future!" He mimed raising a glass to toast her and laughed.

"Adios!" And with that she teleported away.

The Doctor and Amy were left alone in the TARDIS. There was an awkward silence. "So…" Said the Doctor.

"Yes…" said Amy. She shook herself. "Doctor I…thank you…You've been as caring to me as any father. I can see that now." She grinned. "Sorry I kept you awake with my crying when I was born."

"Worth every minute of it – I'd do it again in a heart beat – or two in my case. And you know something? I was right that it was the most important thing in the universe that I sort you and Rory out. Want to know why?"  
"Why?"

"Because if Rory hadn't loved you so much he wouldn't have come with you in the TARDIS. He only came with us to protect you. So really he died for you, even though he took the bullet for me. If he hadn't died I'd never have taken you to all those magnificant places, including the Musee d'Orsay in Paris. And then you would never have met Vincent because we'd never have seen the face in the church window. So you would never have been conceived."

"So the universe would end if I were to be unborn?"

"Like I told you. You saved me more than you know. Together we save the universe."

They embraced.

"So where and when now?" the Doctor stood poised at the controls. "You ought to have the choice – you've taken quite a pummelling."

Amy smiled. "I think I need somewhere quiet. Tranquil. I need to unwind."

"Me too."

"Just before I told you I was pregnant you mentioned a planet made of honeycomb and giant peaceful furry bees."

"I thought you didn't hear any of that."

"I had more important things on my mind at the time but I did hear."

"Do you want to go there?"

"It sounds like a nice place."

"Your wish is my command."

The Doctor tweaked the controls and the TARDIS spun through the time vortex towards its next adventure.

THE END.

**More stories are brewing...**


End file.
